


The Best Way to Say 'Thank You'

by Xemriss



Category: Flight Rising, Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Tenderness, Thank You Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xemriss/pseuds/Xemriss
Summary: Niiru sits at the desk in his room. It’s littered with papers, jars, herbs, basic cream, stirring sticks, jar covers, writing utensils, tape, measuring tools, matches, and a few other miscellaneous items. A thick, multi-wick candle sits alight in both far corners, and a jar, magicked with never-ending sunlight hangs over the center of the desk from the ceiling.





	The Best Way to Say 'Thank You'

**Author's Note:**

> Mkdosfs "Mik" belongs to SeamusHarper #16980 on FR.
> 
> Characters are in humanoid form.

[**Niiru**](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34626121) sits at the desk in his room. It’s littered with papers, jars, herbs, basic cream, stirring sticks, jar covers, writing utensils, tape, measuring tools, matches, and a few other miscellaneous items. A thick, multi-wick candle sits alight in both far corners, and a jar, magicked with never-ending sunlight hangs over the center of the desk from the ceiling.

His guest, [**Mkdosfs**](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=21512388), sits behind him on the bed. He’s quiet now, and the silence helps Niiru forget about him as his focus returns to his work.

He doesn’t notice Mik quietly slip under his desk, nor when Mik mouths at his crotch through the fabric of his pants until he’s lightly panting and there’s a noticeable, dark green spot that accumulates from his precum; nor even when Mik undoes his pants and tugs them well past his knees to playfully nip at his thighs.

What _finally_ catches Niiru’s attention is the feel of warm lips around the head of his cock. He gasps and his hands still mid-script as Mik’s mouth, hot and wet, works him further down.

Niiru stubbornly tries to ignore his instincts in favor of what’s in front of him.

Mik’s pace is slow and languid, and Niiru’s hands are shaking when the first moan finally leaves his lips. He props an arm on the desk as the other slips beneath it and finds its way into Mik’s shoulder-length, silver hair.

Niiru sits back in his chair when the teasing becomes too much, and his free hand joins the first. He looks down, tightly grips Mik’s head as he shifts the pace to something faster, harder. He feels Mik’s hands tightly grip his hips to steady himself as he lets Niiru take the lead.

Moans and half-choked gasps permeate the air as Niiru shamelessly uses his guest’s — his _patient’s_ — mouth to chase his orgasm. He shoves Mik’s head down onto his cock a bit harder than he anticipates when he comes, and his hips twitch as he empties himself down Mik’s throat; feels satisfied as Mik swallows him without a hint of hesitation, without complaint.

Niiru quivers from the aftershocks as he floats from a mix of bliss and surprise. It seems like an eternity before he realizes Mik hasn’t made an attempt to move. A wave of shame rolls through him as his vision focuses on the back of Mik’s head, and he finally, carefully, pulls him off. Part of him expects Mik to be upset, to storm out.

Instead, he blinks in surprise as Mik looks up at him, Ice eyes half-closed and a dumb, satisfied grin on his face.

Niiru thickly swallows, manages a soft, “ _Oh_ ,” with a tone that clearly means ‘hi’.

He watches Mik lick at the green splatters on his lips, doesn’t stop Mik when he shifts to lap up what’s left of the mess on Niiru’s thighs and crotch, though he does twitch and squirm from the oversensitivity.

“Th’nk y’, doc,” Mik says, resting his head on one of Niiru’s still exposed thighs. “Y’save.”

A fresh wave of heat rewarms Niiru’s cheeks as he realizes Mik’s reason for blowing him. His hand finds its way back to Mik’s hair, yet this time it tenderly cards itself through the strands.

“A-anytime.”

They sit there until Niiru’s cock fully disappears back into its sheath, until his bliss is long gone and he feels self-conscious, until he finally asks Mik to move so he can clean up and change for bed.

It’s, selfishly, his favorite ‘thank you’ to date.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr (fr blog: [**@frxemriss**](https://frxemriss.tumblr.com/), nsfw blog: [**@ifisitsitfits**](https://ifisitsitfits.tumblr.com/)) and twitter ([ **@xemriss**](https://twitter.com/Xemriss)) _!_ <3


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